Everything But The Rain
by pragmatician
Summary: He stands under the rain, waiting for fate to guide him to the inevitable. That is, until someone 'rejects' his destiny. Based off Constantine, Ulquiorra/Orihime


Prologue

* * *

Many stories speak of the True Sight, the ability to see how things really are, with all falsehood and pretense stripped away. Our mortal eyes alone can be deceived by the faintest of supernatural powers, the stories say. Humanity is errant in its trusting nature, for it makes us too quickly tricked to seeing things that are not what it actually is.

These stories are just stories, or so we tell our children during the night. We sit in our shelter of brick and glass, deriding the concept of magic and the uncertainty from our temporal sphere of science and reason, and thus we forget. We forget that stories, myths and legends alike come from somewhere, and have lost knowledge that should have maintained.

We have forgotten that humanity is not alone, and that this world is not the only one present in the cosmos. Our greatest physicists theorize about bubble dimensions; our avid preachers would've called them Heaven and Hell. As we forgot the underlying truth, moved away from magic and towards our own methods of conceptualizing and understanding the universe, both other-worldly dimensions slowly retreated from Earth. But they remember us, though we may not remember them. They always watch us.

I was born with the innate ability to see the Truth within everything; how, I do not know. I believe, I have been cursed by the One who sees everything. No more can I see others as though through my own eyes, but only through the eyes of the One. I see others in their true forms, no matter what power they possess.

I see monsters. I see gods. Some look like the worst of abominations, while others look like the reincarnations of a beautiful maiden. Many are within the range of "normal", if normal means anything anymore, but none look as they did before. These days, earthly desires corrupt everyone and everything. Excluding me.

I bought a pack of cigarettes from a gas station, knowing that my supply had depleted. The cashier at the counter was a fair woman, with fair teeth and a straight nose. Unbeknownst to her, I was able to see a pair of wings stretching from her backbone cartilage. Whether she did it on purpose or not is none of my concern. After all, she and her brethren and sworn rivals know who I am and my purpose in life.

 _The one who sees everything. The one who knows everything. The one whose soul is worthy enough to be collected by the wretched thing itself._

These 'creatures' call it a divine gift. I call it hypocritical bullshit.

I turned around to the exit in the hopes of getting the slightest reprieve from this exposure to the deepest secrets of those around me, and it was only then that I realized the side effects of this 'curse' again for many years.

There was no reflection staring back at me from the glass door exit.

For if I were to see my own opinion of myself, that would be the Truth. The Heart. And the True Sight cannot show Truth itself. What our Heart truly represents us as. In a panic, I tried to remember what I looked like. I couldn't.

Eventually, I cringed. I could just make out the sound of happiness and sadness, coming from both everywhere and nowhere. Thus, I reminded myself of who I _truly_ am.

My name is Ulquiorra Schiffer. I am a cynic. I live alone. Best of all, I am an exorcist who fucks shit up.

* * *

It wasn't everyday that Ulquiorra gets a call from his associates. Thrice has almost always been the maximum amount of times he has been summoned for in a month.

"Just another day," he said as he lit the the end portion of his cigarette and placed the other end of it in the tip of his mouth. _Inhale. Exhale. Cough Heavily._ The smoke he blew almost always infuriated his protege, Yammy Llargo. A taxi driver.

"Can we please not smoke in the car for once?"

"Maybe you should focus at what's in front." Ulquiorra replied cynically, avoiding Yammy's otherwise blanch demands.

"Why are we even going to some broke down apartment in Chinatown? I thought Syazel was the one who handl.."

"..- handle minor exorcism, yes. But apparently, that didn't seem like the case."

 _Fool. He'll never know what will hit him one day._

After a few minutes, the taxi car stops by the entrance of a run down apartment. Ulquiorra gets out of his car, whilst throwing his cigarette away. He orders Yammy to stay put and wait until he comes back. He walks inside the entrance of the apartment's lobby and meets Syazelaporro, long time associate and religious doctor for the city's religious hospital.

"Thank god you're here!" Syazel pants heavily.

Ulquiorra doesn't mention anything while taking out a new cigarette. He looks at Syazel as if he were to not beat around the bush and skip to the point immediately.

"Up the stairs, follow me."

 _Tch._

Ulquiorra walks through a group of people who were blocking the path to his destination. _I can see the fear in their eyes._ _Little insects._ He is now led by another person who points him towards an open door with a young girl tied securely on a bed. _I_ _t_ screamed and shrieked so much that it almost punctured Syazel's eardrums. Most of them were meters away from where the room was, scared of ending up in a same fate just as the girl. Just as it stops shrieking in anger, it sees Ulquiorra with a sinister look. It didn't take long for it to jolt and snap her eyes open, staring deeply into Ulquiorra.

It began to cry out several words while giving Ulquiorra a sinister look.

 _That wasn't hard._

"Ulquiorra Schiffer. Nice to meet you, asshole."

Ulquiorra moves past the bed to the window near the girl and pushes the curtains, allowing the sunlight to pierce through the room. The monster writhed in pain, albeit for a short moment before getting used to it. Ulquiorra pushed his hands deep into his pocket, taking out a key chain with three supernatural medallions attached to it. He places it on the window glass, its shadow forming on the possessed girl. He uses the first two medallions, although with no effect. That is, until using the third one which made the girl feel excruciating pain in an instant. Ulquiorra can see it clearly through the girl's facial expressions. No, he can already feel the pain deep within the possessor. The girl writhed and screamed in pain, her facial expression begging for the pain to go away at all costs. Ulquiorra looked at the medallion that caused this unexpected situation. It was decades since he felt his own expression.

He was shocked.

* * *

tbc.


End file.
